The Good Daughter (The Good Daughter #1) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,191

smart for that.”

Charlie knew that Gamma would have taken the observation as a compliment.

“She was so clever,” Judith said. “I was a bit afraid of her.”

“I think a lot of people were.”

“Well.” Judith drank some ice water.

Charlie watched the woman’s hands, looking for that telltale tremble, but there was nothing.

“Charlotte.” Judith put down the glass. “I’m going to be honest with you about that night. I’ve never seen a man so broken as your father was. I hope I never do again. I’m not sure how he managed to go on. I’m really not. But I know that he loved you unconditionally.”

“I never doubted that he did.”

“That’s good.” Judith used her fingers to wipe condensation from the glass. “My father, Mr. Heller, he was devout, and loving, and he provided for me, and he supported me, which, Lord knows a first-year schoolteacher needs support.” She chuckled quietly. “But after that night, I understood that my father did not cherish me the way that your father cherished you. I don’t blame Mr. Heller for that. What you and Rusty had was something special. So, what I guess I am telling you is, that no matter what your father’s motivations were for asking you to lie, it came from a place of deep and abiding love.”

Charlie expected to feel tears, but none came. She was finally cried out.

Judith said, “I know that Rusty is gone, and that a parent’s death makes you think about a lot of things, but you shouldn’t be angry with your father for asking you to keep it secret. He did it with the best of intentions.”

Charlie nodded at what she knew was the truth.

The kettle started to whistle. Judith stood. She turned off the stove. She went to a large cabinet that Charlie remembered from before. It was tall, almost floor to ceiling. Mr. Heller had kept his rifle on top, obscured by the crown molding. The white wood had been painted dark blue in the interim. Judith opened the doors. There were decorative mugs hanging from hooks beneath the shelves. Judith selected two mugs from either side of the rack. She closed the doors and went back to the stove.

“I’ve got peppermint and chamomile.”

“Either is fine.” Charlie looked at the closed cabinet doors. There was a sentence painted in script underneath the molding. Light blue, but not in enough of a contrast against the dark blue to make the words stand out. She read aloud, “‘He settles the childless woman in her home as the mother of happy children.’”

At the counter, Judith’s hands went still. “From the Psalms: 113:9. But that’s not the King James version.” She poured hot water into the mugs.

Charlie asked, “What’s the King James version?”

“‘He maketh the barren woman to keep house, and to be a joyful mother of children. Praise ye, the Lord.’” She found two spoons in a drawer. “I’m not barren, though, so I like the other version.”

Charlie felt a cold sweat come over her. “I guess in some ways you’re the mother of your kids at school.”

“You’re exactly right.” Judith sat down, passing one of the mugs to Charlie. “Doug and I spent more than half of our lives taking care of other people’s children. Not that we don’t enjoy it, but when we’re home, we enjoy the quiet even more.”

Charlie turned the handle of the mug around, but she did not pick it up.

“I’m barren,” Charlie said, the word feeling like a rock in her throat.

“I’m so sorry.” Judith stood up from the table. She brought back a carton of milk from the fridge. “Do you want sugar?”

Charlie shook her head. She wasn’t going to drink the tea. “You never wanted children?”

“I love other people’s children.”

Charlie said, “I heard that you were helping Kelly study for some kind of exam.”

Judith put the milk on the table. She sat back down.

“You must have felt betrayed,” Charlie said. “For her to do that.”

Judith watched the steam rise from the tea.

“And she knew Mr. Pinkman,” Charlie said, not because Mason Huckabee had told them, but because Sam had shown Charlie her notes where she had recorded Kelly Wilson’s exact words:

“I heard people say he wasn’t a bad man, but I never got sent to the principal’s office.”

Kelly had managed to finagle her way past Sam’s question. The girl had not said that she did not know Douglas Pinkman. She had said that he was not known to be a bad man.

Charlie said, “I saw the security footage from the school.”

Judith’s